


Tea That Smelled Of Lavender And Honey

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-10
Updated: 2006-01-10
Packaged: 2019-01-19 23:53:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12420801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: My (utterly romantic) rendering of what happens after Snape's flight from Hogwarts at the end of HBP.





	Tea That Smelled Of Lavender And Honey

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable. I'll take credit for Dahlia though. ;)

**Tea That Smelled Of Lavender And Honey**

Dahlia was reading in bed when she heard a sharp rapping at the back door echo through her small cottage. Startled, she climbed out of bed and pulled a housecoat over her thin nightgown, though modesty was hardly necessary, not with _him_. She knew it was _him_ because he was the only one, though her visitors were few, who ever knocked on the backdoor. However, she could not imagine what he would be doing there; the full moon was still a ways off. As she hurried downstairs and through the kitchen to the back door, she hoped that his visit was a pleasant one. The last time she'd seen him he had been horribly morose, more so than usual even, and exhausted. Being a Muggle, though irrevocably tied to the wizarding world through her lycanthropy, she did not fully understand what was happening. Nonetheless, he had done his best to keep her informed of the situation. After all, Dahlia's sister had once belonged to that world. 

After unlocking the numerous locks on her back door, she flung it open to find a disheveled and harried looking Severus Snape. She advanced toward him tenderly, concern written on her face, but he recoiled, shoving a pale, sickly boy in front of him. There was no need for introductions, she'd heard a lot about this particular young man. 

"Have you any Draught of the Living Death left?" Severus' voice was hoarse and Dahlia cringed as she stepped back to let the two men in. She hurried to the hidden cupboard where she kept the numerous convenient Potions Severus had given her in case of an emergency. Sure enough there was a half full-bottle of the lilac elixir on the top-most shelf. "Can he stay in the guest room?" Severus croaked again, taking the bottle from Dahlia's hand. She nodded, mutely, as Severus steered the shell-shocked blonde upstairs. 

When he came back down, the bottle a little emptier than it had been, he found Dahlia at her kitchen table, nervously tugging at her red curls. She looked up when she heard Severus' footsteps on the stone floor of the kitchen.

"It happened tonight didn't it?" She took his silence as affirmation. "Will you tell me about it?" 

"I'll need some tea first."

"I've already got the water on," Dahlia responded, nodded towards the stove. He sat down across from her, looking forlorn and lost. She wanted to go to him, wrap her arms around him, and ease the hurt and heartbreak from his dark, sullen eyes. She settled for reaching across table and taking his hand in her own; she knew how he shied away from physical contact in times like these. She knew nearly everything about him. After all, they had been involved for nearly eighteen years now. 

Of course, their involvement had been relegated to lycanthropic business for quite some time. She was a Muggle, and a werewolf no less. What was more, she was Lily Evans' sister. This of course aroused much hatred in the young Severus Snape at first, as James Potter was the one person Severus hated most of all, and Lily had recently become his little trophy wife. Still, he would come, Wolfsbane potion in hand, once a month to the remote cottage Dumbledore had set Dahlia up with. He always came to the back door with a scowl and an occasional grunted pleasantry. She rarely had visitors and her naturally sunny disposition yearned for company. She'd try her best to coax a smile from the grouchy teenaged boy from the world that had swallowed her sister nearly eight years prior when Lily ran off to Hogwarts, but with little luck. It never daunted her though, as his melancholy made her laugh. She knew that no boy could really be _that_ melodramatic.

Gradually, his interest in lycanthropy grew and one evening when she offered him something to drink, he actually accepted. Over tea that smelled of lavender and honey, Severus shyly asked the beaming hermit (who was overjoyed at playing host for once) if he could study the effects of his experimentally improved Wolfsbane on her. Of course she was slow to respond. She was somewhat enjoying the sallow boy's company, but she was loath to have anyone see her in her more primal state. Nonetheless, the excitement in Severus' black-as-night eyes was contagious and Dahlia, eager to keep her new friend, agreed. That summer, a year after his graduation from Hogwarts, Severus visited every night for weeks at a time, studying Dahlia. His interest grew from strictly scientific to something more as he discovered how much he enjoyed the way she hummed while she made them tea in the evenings, the way her eyes lit up when she was talking about a particularly interesting book, and even the way she tugged on her red curls while sharing the more disturbing aspects of her transformations. Severus even found he did not hate red hair nearly as much as he'd always thought. In fact, much to his surprise, he sort of liked it, now that it was on Dahlia and not Lily. Severus tried to erase the fact, in his mind, that Lily and Dahlia were related. They just seemed so different. Perhaps that was due to the fact that Dahlia was a Muggle. This, however, caused a conundrum of problems in Severus' conscious. As it just so happened he had recently joined a group of Muggle-hating murderers. And yet here he was, dare he say it, _falling in love_ with one. 

Their relationship had grown upwards from there and one day the mismatched couple appeared at Dumbledore's office door at Hogwarts (after much squealing and gasping from Dahlia as Severus dragged her past talking paintings and moving suits of armor) in a panic over their "situation." Their "situation, " Dahlia explained confidently, as she had of course met Dumbledore before, was that Severus, whom she loved dearly, she insisted, was currently involved in a highly dangerous and illegal organization that killed Muggles and insisted their members stamp some sort of gross insignia on their arms. She held out Severus' arm then as "exhibit A" before proceeding. It seemed that Severus had just divulged this information to her and she rushed off in search of Dumbledore, knowing full well he was capable of fixing everything. After all, he had taken a poor Muggle werewolf and given her security, hope, and love. When she was finished, Severus only shrugged and looked at Dumbledore apologetically. However, Dahlia was more right than Severus could have guessed, and by the time the couple left that afternoon, a plan was on the table to set everything right.

Since then, his visits became fewer, as Severus took on the job of Potions Professor and double agent, but Dahlia was confident knowing he had done it all for her. They still spent as much of their summers together as possible without Voldemort or his followers getting suspicious and he turned up faithfully before every full moon. Lately, though, when he'd come he was exhausted and anxious. Finally he was forced to confide in her; he was going to have to kill Albus Dumbledore. The news had come as a shock, especially learning it was on Dumbledore's own orders, but she took it like a champion, understanding that the ways of the wizarding world were still somewhat alien to her. 

And now, here he was, having done it. He had killed the man who had saved both their lives. The teapot let out its urgent scream, startling them both back to reality. They talked then, over tea that smelled like lavender and honey, like it was the first time. As he told his story, as horrible as it was, she relearned him. She memorized every mannerism, every look, every touch, and every tear that slid down his tortured face. She had a feeling things would be different now; that things were changing.

"Do you believe in Heaven?" She asked him that night, when they were on the verge of sleep. She listened to his heartbeat and felt his chest rise and fall in the eternity before he answered. 

"Sometimes."

"Do you think he's with Lily now? And James?" There were tears pooling on his chest and he remembered the way she had cried when they died. His heart had broken for her.

"Yes," he whispered, hands tangling in her red curls as he drifted off to sleep. She sighed, almost contentedly. It would be the last thing he said to her. When she woke up, he would be gone and she would be alone, again.


End file.
